


Postcard from Spain

by paperscribe



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Caring, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperscribe/pseuds/paperscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU.  What happens when James does send Robbie that postcard from Spain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postcard from Spain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Somniare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/gifts).



_Robbie,_

_I'm two towns away from the Cathedral, completely panicked. It's said this pilgrimage can bring a sort of clarity to people who have lost their way, and for the first time, I don't know if I want that clarity. I thought I did. I thought I wanted to know the path I should take to move forward with my life._

_But if that path takes me away from you, I don't want to follow it. I don't want an epiphany if that's what it brings me._

_I need you more than I need this._

_I'm coming home._

_James_

***  
When James answers the door, Robbie holds up James's postcard without a word.

"Ah," James says, looking completely uncomfortable. "Is this where you come in, or where you walk away and never speak to me again?"

"I'll come in," Robbie says, "if you'll have me."

James nods. "Of course."

Neither one of them sits once they are in James's flat. They stand, taking pains neither to get too close to each other nor to stay too far away. It is a delicate moment. Both of them know that.

Surprisingly, James is first to break the silence. "I almost didn't send it. Any number of times, I picked it up and fully intended to rip it into pieces so small they'd never be read by anyone."

"I'm glad you sent it," Robbie says. "Can I say that?"

James smiles, then does his best to hide the smile. "Of course you can."

"Took everything I had not to ask you not to go," Robbie says.

James's eyes widen. "Did it?"

Robbie nods. "Thought you might not come back." What he isn't saying is clear enough to both of them, he's sure--that he wouldn't have known what to do without James. That the loss of James would've been a pain too deep to talk about…that even the idea of it is too much to talk about.

James takes a step forward, hesitantly brushing the back of Robbie's hand with his fingers. "I'm here."

Robbie turns his hand so their palms were touching. "To stay?"

James nods. "Yeah."

"Good," Robbie says, voice sounding almost choked.

Another long silence, but one of understanding this time. Again, James breaks it.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asks.

Robbie smiles. "Yeah."

They know what they aren't talking about, and that they probably will talk about it one day. But for now, it's enough to understand that they need each other.

***

"James?"

James smiles at the familiar voice issuing from his mobile. "Hello, Robbie. Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine. Listen, what are you doing this week-end?"

"Wallowing in self-pity?" James guesses, knowing it will make Robbie laugh.

It does. "Think you can tear yourself away from that a few hours? I need your help."

"Is it a case you're working?" James asks.

"No, it's nothing like that. You're fashionable, aren't you?"

James frowns. "According to whom?"

"It's just that Laura says I need some new shirts. The ones I have are a bit loud, she says."

"She's right," James teases.

"Aye, I know, but I wear the things I'm naturally drawn to. So I need you to draw me to something else."

"All right. Have you considered plain colours?"

"Plain? D'you mean plaid?"

James nearly snorts with laughter. "I see we have our work cut out for us. No, I don't mean plaid."

"I'll try anything you say, honestly. I'm that desperate. Do you think you can make it?"

"Of course I can," James says, smiling at the thought of spending a few hours shopping with Robbie. It will be fun. "I'll pick you up at eleven-thirty Saturday morning?"

"Perfect." Robbie sounds relieved. "Thanks, man."

When James hangs up, he smiles down at his mobile. "Oh, I am going to introduce you to a whole new world, Robbie Lewis."

***

"Put the orange shirt down!"

Robbie glances over at James, who has a mulish look on his face, and then sighs, setting down the orange shirt with white flowers. "But it's plain! There are only two colours on it."

"Plain is one colour, Robbie," James says, taking a frightening number of shirts and draping them over his arm. "Here. Let's try these."

The changerooms are large enough that both of them can fit inside, and Robbie is grateful when James politely averts his eyes so Robbie will feel comfortable. Not that he is doing anything too revealing, but still, he doesn't exactly want to treat James to a show. (Unless of course James wants to see one, but that's a thought for another time.)

The first shirt is a medium blue in colour. Robbie eyes it doubtfully.

"I don't know," he says.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" James stands behind him, peering into the mirror. Robbie likes the look of the two of them together. "It's perfect. Exactly the same colour as your eyes."

Robbie feels his cheeks heat and is grateful he isn't one to blush. "Is it?" 

"Mm-hmm." James rests his hands on Robbie's shoulders, smiling at him. "It looks nice."

Robbie swallows the urge to say, Then I'll buy it right now. "It's all right, I suppose. Dunno about some of the colours you brought in, though. They'd work for your complexion but not mine."

James raises his eyebrows. "Such as?"

"Lavender. Looks perfect with your eyes and hair. I'm not sure it won't make me look faded and old."

"Trust me, nothing I've chosen will make you look faded and old. And I didn't know you'd noticed."

"What?" Robbie feels his pulse quicken.

"What colours look good on me."

"Well, you look nice every day. I always notice that," Robbie says, fumbling his words a bit. "But you've got a bit somber of late--mostly black and white."

James gives him a rueful smile. "Trying to seem authoritative, I suppose. They say if you dress to fit the part, sooner or later you'll start to feel as though you belong in it."

"You don't have to wear black for everyone to know you're in charge," Robbie says. "Besides, I miss that pale pink shirt of yours."

James looks at once embarrassed and pleased. "I can't promise anything, but it might make a reappearance."

Robbie smiles. "I hope it does."

Standing here, with James's hands resting gently on his shoulders, Robbie wants nothing more than to turn round and ask James to kiss him. But the words stick inside him somehow.

After a moment, James pats Robbie's shoulders. "Come on. We've still got a few more for you to try."

Robbie nods, turning his attention back to safer things…shoes and ships and sealing wax, so to speak. Not how much he wants to snog James.

And definitely not how much he wants James to snog him.

***

When James arrives at work the next morning, Robbie is hovering near the door to James's office.

"What can I do for you?" James asks, unlocking his office door and letting himself in.

"Did you not notice?" Robbie asks, sounding oddly disappointed.

James turns and gives Robbie a proper examination, narrowing his eyes slightly. Then he smiles. "You're wearing the shirt I chose for you."

"You were right," Robbie admits. "It does look good."

"And you haven't noticed either," James says, mock-pouting at Robbie.

Robbie nods. "I have." He takes a step forward, running his fingers ever so lightly down the front of James's shirt. "Pink."

James is suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe. He swallows hard and nods silently.

Robbie meets his eyes. "For me?"

"Do you have to ask?"

Robbie smiles an odd little smile, shaking his head. "No." He moves his hand away from James's shirt. "Next time I get to choose some shirts for you."

"Sounds fine, if I have the right of refusal," James says.

Robbie gives James a wry look. "Since when have I ever been able to make you do something you didn't want to do?"

He might be surprised. "I didn't know you liked shopping."

"I do when it's with you," Robbie says, so readily and openly that James's stomach feels as though it will leap into his throat in another minute.

Completely unaware of the havoc his words have wreaked, Robbie says, "Well, I ought to go. But I'll buy you a pint later, if you'd like."

James manages a nod. "I'd like that. Thank you."

Robbie smiles. "I'll see you, then."

James waits until Robbie had gone to collapse into the chair behind his desk and imagine all the ways that conversation could have gone.

***

Robbie is beginning to remember why his dating years were so bloody difficult.

He's invited James out for a pint…yes, good, fine. He knows that works. It's been working for them for ages. But what is he going to do now? He wants to move closer, but he doesn't want James to move away, and he isn't sure exactly what words or actions from him would affect James, let alone in which way.

He wonders if James's thought processes are anything like his. Then he wonders if that's a good thing.

"You're awfully quiet," James says, his tone of voice encouraging.

Robbie decides to be blunt. "I'm trying to find the right thing to say."

Some of the humour leaves James's eyes. "That sounds serious."

"Not as serious as you think," Robbie says.

James gives Robbie one of his little smiles. Those smiles always make Robbie feel as though he's done something particularly special to bring them forth. "Tell me."

"Could I hold your hand?" Robbie blurts out before he can change his mind. Then he inhales sharply, holding his breath. He's said it. It's up to James now what happens next.

James gives nothing away. "When?"

That isn't the response Robbie was expecting. "Well…now if you'll let me."

"Why?"

Robbie sighs. "James, I've been trying to get closer to you lately. You must've noticed."

James nods slowly. "I wasn't sure what it meant."

Robbie gives him a rueful smile. "Neither was I. Neither am I. I just know that…right now…well, ever since you've been back really…"

And in the middle of Robbie's awkward blustering, James takes his hand.

"Okay," James says quietly.

Robbie looks at him, startled. "Okay?"

James nods.

Robbie looks down at their hands, linked together atop the table. Then he smiles.

"Okay," he says.

***

Holding hands has become their way of talking to each other.

It isn't that they don't talk to each other; of course they do. They talk down the nick; they talk down the pub. It's just that they never talk about what's happening between them…what it means, what it is. James doesn't know what to say, and he isn't sure Robbie does either. They do all right without words.

Sometimes, when James is feeling stressed by work, he finds Robbie and takes his hand, just for a moment. The touch grounds him, makes him feel solid and present and real…makes him feel as though he can manage whatever task he's having trouble with. Robbie never asks why and never denies him; he simply stands there and shows James affection the way both of them know is all right.

Then, one day, when James is hard at work at his desk and Maddox is out interviewing a suspect, Robbie comes into the office without a word and takes James's hand.

James's instinct is always to be verbal…to ask what's wrong, to ask if there's anything he can do. But he knows that Robbie will talk about what's troubling him if and when he feels able, so James holds Robbie's hand, lifting his other hand to touch Robbie's arm.

To James's complete and utter shock, Robbie bends forward, resting his forehead on James's shoulder. After a moment's surprise, James moves his free arm to hug Robbie tight, pulling him close. Robbie sags against him, and James wonders how tired he is…what he's been dealing with.

"I'm here," James says.

Slowly, Robbie returns James's one-armed hug.

"I know," Robbie whispers.

***

Robbie has a problem. He can't stop touching James.

Well, it's not exactly a problem, not in the way that being cautioned for speeding or losing one's specs might be. But, although Robbie knows that James is comfortable with Robbie's touch, he's not sure that James would welcome it equally in all situations--in a crowded room, say, even if they were standing at the back. Robbie knows he could ask for more commitment than James is willing to give.

Then again, James did say he came back here for Robbie alone. That's got to mean something, hasn't it?

So Robbie finds himself resting a hand on James's shoulder as James goes through a door ahead of him, or seeking out his hand to hold at certain times. He asks James to drive him home one night just so he can rest his head on James's shoulder on the ride home. James doesn't mind. In fact, he offers to pick up Robbie and drive him home every day; at least Robbie knows that sort of touch is welcome.

"I have to ask," Robbie says one morning. "Are there…times when you'd rather I didn't touch you so much?"

"No," James says.

"But in public. Or at work. I understand if you're not comfortable with it, James, I…"

They are stopped at a zebra crossing, and James gives Robbie a meaningful look before driving on.

"It's true that I'm not always the most comfortable sharing things about myself with other people," James says slowly, as though the words take some effort to say. "But as far as touch…I'm sharing that with you. How other people respond to that has nothing to do with me."

Robbie nods. "I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

James smiles at him. "You can't."

And after that morning, every time Robbie hesitates about touching James, every time it seems uncertain whether he should or shouldn't, he remembers the way James sounded when he said, You can't, and he touches him all the same.

***

James is making tea in the tearoom when Robbie comes hurrying in. 

James glances at him. "Everything all right?"

Robbie takes both of James's hands and holds them. "You have to go on leave. Promise me."

James frowns. "What? Robbie, why-?"

"There's a bloke called Graham Lawrie," Robbie says. "The lab with his DNA evidence made a bad mistake, he's appealing, and he could go free. He hates coppers and he hates me worst of all, because I'm the one put him away."

James had been in Oxford then, and dimly remembers what Lawrie had done. But how does it follow that he should go on leave? "I don't understand."

"If he knows what you are to me, he'll use you to get at me," Robbie says, holding James's hands more tightly. "I need you to be safe."

James can feel something inside him soften at the plea, and he nods. "I'll go on leave. On one condition."

"Anything," Robbie says. He'd evidently prepared for a more difficult fight and is relieved he hasn't got one.

"You go on leave with me," James says. "I'm not going to protect myself knowing you're still here and easily got at. I need you to be safe too."

Robbie nods. "Yeah. That's fair. Should I go ask Herself?"

"Ask for both of us," James says. "I think she'll understand."

Robbie gives James an embarrassed smile. "All right."

With that, he's gone. James turns to discover his tea is now ridiculously strong, but that doesn't seem to matter.

What matters is that Robbie wanted to protect them.

***

Robbie has managed to hide the nightmares.

It's easier than you'd think, really. James is almost never with Robbie when he's asleep, so James would never be privy to any of Robbie's nights, good or bad. And at work or at the pub, Robbie doesn't feel the need to talk about it. Those fears belong to darkness and solitude, not daylight and companionship. In other words, being with James sends the nightmares away.

But nights, he's not with James. And ever since there's been the possibility that Lawrie might come back, that he might be freed, Robbie hasn't been able to make the nightmares stop. They come most nights and they don't vary much.

All this changes, though, when he goes on holiday with James. They decide to travel together, and on the plane over, Robbie falls asleep and has one of his nightmares. He wakes with James's hand on his shoulder and tears streaming down his face, and is so embarrassed that he turns away. Well, he turns away as much as airplane seating will allow, which is admittedly not much.

Then he feels the weight of James's head on his shoulder, and turns to find that James is draped over the armrest somehow, reaching out to hold him. Robbie drapes an arm round James, as much to reassure himself that James is warm and alive as anything else. He sighs softly, moving his head to rest against James's.

James is first to fall asleep this time, and Robbie is ready to guard him from his dreams.

***

James is awakened by Robbie murmuring into his hair, "Wake up, sleepyhead. We're here."

James opens his eyes, yawning a bit. He'd fallen asleep in the taxi on the ride from the airport, apparently quite soundly. "Sorry."

"It's all right. Not everyone can be as chipper as me," Robbie jokes, paying the cab driver and then getting out of the car. James, a bit more slowly, follows suit.

They'd discussed all sorts of holiday locations, but after juggling options like somewhere tropical (bad memories for Robbie) and a large city (James preferred less crowded places), they had decided on an American small town. They'd looked at hotels and bed and breakfasts, but had decided to rent a house for a week; the house in question was within walking distance of a small downtown area, which had a two-screen movie theatre and a variety of small shops. James wishes now that he'd been awake for the ride into town; maybe he would've seen some of the downtown area.

As they stand looking at the house they've rented, Robbie's hand finds James's. James glances at Robbie to make sure he's all right.

"Our house," Robbie says, meeting James's eyes…and the look in his eyes says what his words don't. This is meaningful to him. He wouldn't share a house with just anyone.

"Ours," James agrees. "Should we go in?"

Robbie laughs. "Unless you've planned some sort of camping expedition I don't know about."

"We could put up a tent in the front yard, I suppose, but I left my scouting manual at home," James jokes.

The house is clearly well-loved, but James finds he likes it better than it if had been immaculate. He doesn't have to tiptoe everywhere and worry about leaving scratches or dents or dings in the place; it's designed for use.

"What do you think about walking into town and finding somewhere to eat dinner?" James asks.

Robbie squeezes James's hand. "I'd like that. Might need sleep before that happens, though."

James nods. "Do you want me nearby?"

Robbie's mouth sets in that small frown, tugging down at the corners as he struggles with his emotions. He nods.

"Come on then," James says. "Let's find a place for you to sleep."

When they find a bedroom with a queen-sized bed, James follows Robbie to the bed and rests beside him without a word, reaching out to hold his hand. Robbie gives James a pained but grateful look.

"Get some rest," James says softly. "I'll be here if you need me."

Robbie's asleep in minutes, and this time, his sleep is calm. James is glad.

***

Robbie wakes close to James, and he feels so sleepy and comfortable that he barely wants to move. He sighs, and feels James's hand brush through his hair.

"Hello," James says. "Did you sleep well?"

Robbie nods. "Feel like I could sleep for days."

"Go ahead. I'll wake you up when it's time to leave." James sounds amused.

Robbie's inhibitions are always tiny to nonexistent when he has just awakened, and he reaches out to embrace James, tucking their bodies against each other. Sometimes it's easier not to say anything…it's easier just to show James how he's feeling.

Like an answer to a silent question, James hugs Robbie in turn. 

Without James, Robbie doesn't know how he would've made it here without completely falling apart, what with Lawrie's appeal hanging over him. Sudden noises made him jump; if someone called his name in public, he felt the overwhelming urge to run. He's still afraid, but here he knows Lawrie can't find him. Innocent doesn't know where he's gone; he didn't even tell Laura. Robbie doesn't know whether James feels as calm as he seems, but James's presence has calmed him and centered him as much as could be humanly possible given the circumstances. 

He hides his face against James's shoulder, and James strokes his hair again, tucking his cheek against Robbie's head.

They don't need to say 'I love you'. Maybe they never did.

***

James had been sure that he and Robbie were already very close. Then they'd come here.

He suspects it had something to do with the change of routine. In a new setting, outside their usual work duties and even the patterns of their usual meetings after work, there have been no patterns to cling to, no established patterns of behaviour to follow. They had to make their own, and they are making their own.

Robbie had already been finding any excuse to touch James, to be near him, to hold his hand in Oxford. That tendency is even more pronounced here. He's never very far from James's side, and when they are watching telly at night or going to bed, Robbie wants to cuddle, to be as close to James as he possibly can be. James had honestly had no idea how keen on cuddling Robbie was, how much he loved to be held, before this.

The only thing more surprising is James's own response to their new surroundings. He had always returned Robbie's affectionate gestures, even in England, but here, he finds he has the courage to initiate them more often. He had been the one to suggest that they sleep in the same bed together at nights, hiding it behind the practical solution to Robbie's nightmares, and Robbie had agreed. He finds himself pulling Robbie in for impromptu hugs, draping his arm round him when they are sitting or standing together.

And then one morning, Robbie says, "What do you think about a walk through town?"

James says, "I think it's an excellent idea," and kisses him.

He hasn't even noticed what he's done until Robbie gets a shy little smile on his face, and amazingly, even once James does realise, his first response isn't one of fear or shame. He hasn't realised how much being with Robbie has changed him; he hasn't seen the slow, long-simmering alterations in himself. But somehow, he has come to love Robbie so unthinkingly that expressing affection for him is as natural as breathing. James hadn't even known he was capable of that sort of affection; if pressed, he probably would have said he wasn't. And yet here it is.

Robbie takes James's hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Whenever you're ready."

James smiles warmly at Robbie. 

"I'm ready now," he says.

***

Robbie reads the text message and bursts into tears.

James is there in an instant, hands on Robbie's shoulders, looking into his face. "Robbie, what's wrong? What is it?"

"It's over," Robbie says, feeling as though he can hardly think, hardly breathe. He leans against James in exhaustion, spent from a fear he'd never fully been able to let go.

James picks up the phone, reading the text Robbie just read--a brief text from Maddox. We've got them in custody, sir. Lawrie and his accomplice. He then sets the phone aside and embraces Robbie tightly.

"I don't know what I was expecting to f-feel," Robbie mumbles into James's shoulder.

"Whatever you do feel," James says softly. "You're safe now."

Despite knowing that Lawrie hated him, Robbie had never really been worried for himself. He'd been worried for James. But…maybe that goes both ways. Robbie rests a hand against James's chest. "You're right, James. I'm safe."

James doesn't say anything, but his embrace tightens almost imperceptibly.

Robbie lifts his head, looking at James. Robbie's been so distracted lately that he's missed a lot of things he would normally have seen immediately, such as the way James has been caring for him since before they arrived. James has taken good care of him, and Robbie is grateful. Without thinking, Robbie leans forward and kisses James, their lips meeting. 

James returns the kiss so gently, so lovingly, pulling back after a moment and brushing his fingertips along Robbie's cheek.

"You get my full attention the rest of this holiday," Robbie whispers. "I promise."

James beams, and answers by leaning in to kiss Robbie again.

***

They've spent a long, intimate morning nestled together on the bed, arms and legs tangled round each other. James is feeling at once a bit sleepy and perfectly contented.

"I'm going to miss this," Robbie says softly, twining his fingers with James's playfully.

"You don't have to," James says. "You could move in with me."

"Are you sure, James?" Robbie asks. "I think I would like that, but I want to be sure it's really what you want."

"I wouldn't ask you if it weren't," James says. "The thought of going back and not being with you like this every day…it's unbearable."

"I know," Robbie says. He sounds…well, if it were the first day of their holiday, James would say he has never heard Robbie sound so openly emotional, but Robbie has been like this for most of their holiday. James feels, well, a bit proud that Robbie feels able to let down his guard and just be with him. 

Robbie kisses James's shoulder and then leans against it, whispering, "It's got so I need you."

The unexpected declaration almost brings tears to James's eyes. "I need you too."

Robbie looks at him solemnly. "You all right?"

James nods. "Yeah. Just…it's good to be needed in turn."

"It is, love," Robbie agrees.

James says nothing, but clings closer to Robbie. Such a little word with such a big meaning.

Love.

***

As their return to England approaches, something is bothering James. Robbie can see it plain as anything, but James is doing his usual bit where he pretends nothing is wrong and hopes no one notices he's lying. 

Robbie notices. He has done for a while.

"All right," Robbie says finally, at lunch the day before they leave. "What is it?"

James stares at the table and not at Robbie as he speaks. "Will you want to be discreet when we're back home?"

Suddenly it all makes sense. James isn't being stroppy to be stroppy. He's afraid that whatever magic they've had on this holiday will be gone once they're back in Oxford, set on their usual paths.

"Dunno if you've noticed," Robbie says, taking James's hand, "but I'm not your boss any more. Meaning we can be as open or closed about this as you like. I probably won't snog you down the nick in front of everyone, but we were already pretty close before we left." He pauses, wondering if he needs to say the rest of what he was thinking, and deciding he does. "I'm with you now. And I don't want to hide it. For any reason."

James looks almost weak with relief. "I was afraid you'd be…" He can't finish.

Robbie gives James's hand a gentle squeeze. "This isn't a passing fancy, James. For good or ill, we're an us now. And long as you're still interested, so am I."

James nods rapidly, which means he's feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Robbie stands, crossing to James as he sits. James turns and hides his face against Robbie's stomach, arms circling Robbie quickly. Robbie, surprised at James's speed but not at his need for comfort, rubs James's back gently.

"You and me, lad," he whispers. "You and me."

***

Oxford has always seemed to James to be possessed of a good deal of history, but after spending time in small-town America, where 'old' generally doesn't mean 'medieval', it's genuinely startling to be back in Oxford again. The city seems at once larger and smaller, as though it had been an article of clothing, and James has gone away and grown and come back to find something that doesn't quite fit the way it used to.

"It seems different here," James says.

"Because we're different," Robbie says, understanding exactly what James means without James having to offer a single word of explanation. James loves that about Robbie. James loves a lot of things about Robbie.

James lowers his voice and speaks the absurd, atavistic fear he's had throughout their holiday. "I'm afraid to let go of you in case you should disappear."

Robbie grips James's hand more tightly in response. "I'm not going anywhere."

James turns and meets his gaze. "No. Nor am I."

Robbie smiles tenderly. "It feels strange. Being in love in Oxford again."

"I'll have to take your word for that," James says, hoping 'strange' doesn't mean 'bad.'

Robbie moves closer to James, resting his free hand on James's arm. "It's a good feeling."

James tries to make a joke. "They'll think we're American, with all these public displays of affection."

Robbie leans close to James's ear and whispers, "Let them."

James turns, his face centimetres from Robbie's, the moment suddenly charged. "All right."

A kiss is the only logical end to this conversation, clearly.

***

Robbie is cooking dinner for them one night in their flat (beautiful words, 'their flat') when he feels James step very close behind him and take him in his arms.

"Think I'll like cooking if this is part of it," Robbie jokes gently.

"It can be," James says, perching his chin on Robbie's shoulder. "I realised something today."

Robbie puts down the spoon he was using to stir the peas. (All right, they're frozen, but heating them in boiling water still bloody counts as cooking them.) "What's that then?"

"I've never told you I love you," James says. "Until now."

Robbie thought he didn't need to hear those words, but he couldn't have been more wrong. They cut through all his defences and go straight to his heart. I love you. God.

"Robbie?"

Robbie shakes his head helplessly. How can he say what it means to hear James tell him that, when he never thought James would come to love him in this way? How can he explain how it feels to think that you'll never hear anyone tell you they love you again because the person who loved you most in the world, the person who used to say those things to you, has gone? And how can he explain what it means to be entirely wrong about that?

Instead he turns quickly and buries his face in James's shoulder, and James hugs him tightly in response.

There's alarm in James's voice when he speaks again. "Did I say something wrong?"

Robbie shakes his head, forcing himself to speak. "No, James. I love you too."

James understands, and he holds on to Robbie until Robbie is able to deal with the everyday world again.

***

Watching telly snuggled together on the sofa at night, after dinner, has become their routine. James is beginning to understand why Robbie has, in the past, pushed for him to have a partner; it's genuinely relaxing to hold someone close and let go of whatever problems have been following him throughout the day. And, if he does need to talk over something from work, to get reassurance or understanding, he knows Robbie will know what he's talking about. It's not like sharing something terrible with someone who doesn't know police work and how dark it can be.

Finding programmes to watch has been something of a negotiation. James finds that Robbie rather likes certain forms of reality telly that he doesn't, while James rather likes historical documentaries that aren't always Robbie's forte. But they do have areas of overlap--both of them like cooking shows, and rather surprisingly to James, Robbie is more than willing to watch things like Downton Abbey and Mr Selfridge.

"I never pictured you as a historical drama fan," James says.

"Blame Upstairs, Downstairs. I was quite devoted to it when it was on," Robbie says. 

"So who do you think Lady Mary will end up with?" James jokes lightly.

"Honestly, James, I don't bloody care," Robbie says. "I'm more interested in Bates and Anna pulling through. Though I wouldn't say no to Carson and Mrs Hughes getting a bit closer."

James kisses Robbie's cheek. "You're such a romantic."

"Don't tell anyone," Robbie says. "I've got a reputation to uphold."

James snorts. "And what sort of reputation is that? Everyone at work thinks you're lovely."

Robbie makes a dismissive noise and tries to ignore the compliment, as he always does.

"I think it's adorable that you like the workplace romances," James says. "Ours was one too, you know."

Robbie looks thoughtful. "Suppose it was. That explains quite a bit." He kisses James.

Some nights, like this one, end up not being about telly at all. And that's perfectly fine with James.

***

Robbie is awakened in the middle of the night by a sound he doesn't recognise, and it takes him a moment to work out what it is.

James is whimpering in his sleep.

Robbie moves quickly, gathering James into his arms, murmuring soft nonsense to him. James wakes with a start.

"Robbie?" he whispers.

"Here, pet," Robbie answers.

"It's too much," James whispers, clearly still working through whatever the dream was about. "I can't. I can't…"

"You can if I help you," Robbie says. "You can, love."

James lets out an awkward sound that is half-chuckle and half-sob. "I'm sorry…I'm supposed to comfort you. Not the other way around."

Robbie simply gathers James closer. "That's not true. I'm happy to have you comfort me when I need it, course I am. But you're allowed to need things from me, James. You're allowed to ask me for things you need and want. If I can't give them, I'll say, but I'll always try. All right? You don't have to go through things alone now. That's what this is."

James sniffles. "Can I ask for something now?"

Robbie kisses him. "Of course."

"Keep holding me?"

Robbie presses closer until they're as close as they can be. "Long as you want."

***

Robbie is home half an hour later than usual, and James is just about to ask him where he's been when Robbie produces a bouquet from behind his back.

James stares, not sure what to say. "What…what are those?"

"I wanted to get you something," Robbie says, "and I didn't know what books you already had." He smiles, inviting James to join in the joke.

But James still isn't sure what's happening. "It's not my birthday. And we haven't been together a year, so it can't be our anniversary."

Robbie shakes his head. "It's not anything, love. I bought you flowers because I wanted to do something special for you." He holds out the flowers to James.

James takes the bouquet into his hands, bending forward slightly to smell the flowers. They are a beautiful variety--irises and lilies and roses and tulips. Robbie's bought him something beautiful for no reason at all.

Except that isn't true. Robbie did it because he wanted to. Because James is special to him.

James sets aside the flowers so he won't crush them and moves to Robbie, catching him in a tight hug.

"You like them?" Robbie asks, pleased.

James nods. "I love them." He kisses Robbie gently. "Thank you."

Robbie kisses James in turn, and James moves his hand to brush through Robbie's hair, closing his eyes. James is still getting used to the idea that being with Robbie means that Robbie will do nice things for him just because he wants to. But things like this…getting flowers for no reason…these things are wonderful.

James thought he understood relationships, but now he's beginning to see that he's barely scratched the surface. And discovering that is wonderful.

***

They're watching telly one night, and Robbie thinks it might be the right time to ask a question that's been on his mind for some time now. "Pet?"

James turns to smile at him. "Hm?"

"Our one-year anniversary's coming up."

James smiles a bit more brightly. "I know. I've got it on my calendar." He gestures to his mobile. Somehow Robbie isn't surprised; James probably has everything from a calendar to comic books on there.

"Well, is there anything special you'd like to do?" Robbie asks. "Take a trip or go out to dinner, or…?"

"What would you like to do?" James asks.

Robbie gives him a 'you should know better' look. "I asked first, the point being to find out what you want and not what you think I want."

"Ah," James says.

Robbie waits, but nothing else seems to be forthcoming. "So?"

"I want us to have a garden," James says.

Robbie blinks. "Sorry?"

"I'd like to start a garden with you," James says. "I know you like gardening--you signed up for an allotment ages ago. I'd like that to be something we can do."

Robbie nods. "Right. Does it have to be ready by our anniversary?"

"No," James says. "The point is that we'll start it together. Maybe on the day of our anniversary, we can go to some greenhouses and choose the plants we want." He gives Robbie a hesitant look. "If that seems fine."

"Course it does," Robbie says, draping an arm round James's shoulders. "We'll have the best garden going."

James laughs gently. "I'm sure we will."

***

James noticed the teenage boy fifteen minutes ago, and he's been staring at them the whole time. The boy is too far distant for James to read his facial expression, but his body language isn't hostile, just curious.

"Did you notice that boy staring at us?" James murmurs, turning to face Robbie. They're sharing a park bench today, disregarding each other's personal space a bit more than usual, leaning easily against each other.

Robbie nods. "D'you want to go somewhere else?"

James shakes his head no. "I don't think he's upset by us. I don't get a sense of violence or anger from him."

"Nor me," Robbie agrees. "I'm going to buy a newspaper. Will you be all right?"

James nods. "I'll wait here till you get back."

Robbie gives him a fond look before standing and heading to the nearby newsstand.

The boy, seeing James alone, takes this chance to approach, and James steels himself for whatever might happen.

"Are you happy?" the boy asks.

James frowns for a moment. That wasn't the question he was expecting.

"You and him," the boy clarifies. "Are you happy together?"

Slowly, James nods.

The boy smiles. "I thought so." He glances at Robbie, something wistful in his eyes. "Hope someday I can have what you two got."

James is too stunned to say anything, and by the time he thinks of an answer, the boy has jogged halfway across the park and Robbie is on his way back with his newspaper.

"What did he want?" Robbie asks, taking a seat beside James.

"He hoped we were happy," James says, a bit of a lump in his throat. "And he hopes he can have what we have one day."

Robbie's expression softens as he watches the boy disappear from view. "We're lucky."

James nods, leaning to one side to rest his head on Robbie's shoulder. He thinks how lucky he is most every day.

***

Robbie is just coming through the front door after work when he hears music wafting from the kitchen. He stops to listen, curious what sort of music James is listening to.

Sounds like The Cure. Robbie vaguely remembers when this song was on the radio, although he was a bit busy being a new dad at the time.

Then, delightfully, James starts singing along with the chorus. "Lovecats…doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo do do doo doo…"

Robbie decides he'd probably better make his presence felt. "Hello, love!"

James glances over his shoulder, blushing. "Hi. Sorry. Only I like to have music when I'm washing dishes."

"No, no, I want to hear all about these lovecats," Robbie insists, hugging James.

James laughs, leaning into the hug. "My hands are soapy and wet, Robbie."

"Do you honestly think I care?" Robbie kisses James for emphasis.

"You'll care when I drip fairy liquid in your eye," James says, but there's no edge to his humour.

"Wipe your hands on me shirt then. It'll wash," Robbie says.

"'It'll wash.' The stuff of romance," James says wryly.

"Well, more romantic than 'it's completely ruined,'" Robbie retorts.

"Oh, I don't know," James says, voice dropping into a rather sexy lower register. "I'd let you ruin me any day you like."

Robbie swallows. "Is that so?"

James lifts his eyebrows invitingly. "Why don't you try me?"

Robbie just might, at that.

***

James had been told once that he kissed like a scholar. Rather than take it as an insult, James had owned the comment. If he was going to kiss like a scholar, then kissing like a scholar wasn't going to mean kissing awkwardly or as though one was out of practise. No. Kissing like a scholar was going to mean that he had studied every possible way to kiss and found the absolute best one. Kissing like a scholar was going to mean being an expert in how to make someone moan or cry out or want more, and if James is going to kiss anyone like a scholar, he wants it to be Robbie.

"James," Robbie whispers in between kisses.

James tips his head to one side. "Hmm?"

"James," Robbie says more firmly, taking hold of James's shoulders.

James stares at Robbie. "You don't want…?"

"I don't want it to go further than either of us wants," Robbie says. "I know how far I'm willing to go. Do you?"

James stops to think. Bloody thinking. "I want to kiss you."

Robbie nods. "As you can see, lad, I'm happy to do that."

James laughs a bit breathlessly, nodding. "I'm willing to…explore."

"I'm willing too," Robbie says, "but only if we work out the rules first. You stop me if I do something you don't like, and I'll stop you if you do something I don't like. Clear?"

James grimaces and nods.

Robbie touches the side of James's face with breathtaking gentleness. "I want this to be good for us both."

James nods, understanding.

"So," Robbie says, "now what?"

"Now," James says, "I'm going to kiss you like a scholar."

***

Robbie is half asleep, James in his arms in bed, when James whispers, "Robbie?"

"Hmm?" Robbie answers, drifting toward consciousness a bit.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Course, pet." Robbie nuzzles whatever bit of James is under his face. (His guess is chest or shoulder.)

"Promise I'll never do anything that will make you want to stop this."

That wakes Robbie the rest of the way, and he blinks into the dark, trying unsuccessfully to read James's facial expression. "Why do you think you would?"

"I don't know." But Robbie can tell from James's tone of voice that he does know. He just isn't saying.

"Are you going to be unfaithful to me?" Robbie asks.

"What? No!" James sounds startled and indignant.

"Then you won't do anything that's going to make me leave you," Robbie says. He hesitates, not sure whether he should confess this or not, but decides to. "And honestly…if you were unfaithful to me but wanted to stay with me…I don't think I would leave you then either. Needing you isn't something I can turn off."

He feels James kiss his forehead. "I wouldn't be unfaithful to you. Suppose I'm what you'd call a one-man man. So you don't have to worry about that."

"I fully expect us to have arguments sometimes," Robbie says. "That's part of life. Doesn't mean I'll go away because of it."

"I see," James says. 

Not for the first time, Robbie wonders what the hell sort of life James had growing up and as a young man to think some of the things he thinks. "If you need me to sing 'Let's Stay Together', I'll do it."

James laughs softly. "Maybe another time." He gives Robbie a squeeze. "Thank you."

"Thank you, love," Robbie says softly.

They're both asleep within a few minutes.

***

James stands in the entryway gathering his courage, his body taut with nerves and anxiety about what he's going to say. If he relaxed at all, he'd be shaking. 

Robbie notices the difference immediately, and stands, crossing to him and resting a hand on his arm. "James, what is it?"

"Robbie," James says, sticking to the script that he wrote for himself on the way home, "I need your h-help."

Robbie's eyes are open and loving, and he nods. "Of course. What can I do?"

"I'm…I'm feeling very…" God, this is hard. James makes an inarticulate sound of frustration, and Robbie rubs James's arm gently, waiting for his words. "The case I'm working on is…very difficult for me, and…I need help."

Robbie nods. "Should I talk to Innocent? Do you need me on it?"

"No, not…not help like that," James says. "It makes me feel very…" He gestures helplessly.

Robbie seems to understand now. "Do you want to tell me why?"

"No," James says, almost laughing with the absurdity of it. Even now, when he knows he needs to, he doesn't want to talk about it. "But I should."

"Come on then," Robbie says. "We'll sit on the sofa and I'll hold you, and you'll know you're in a safe place before you start. All right?"

James nods, relieved. This is what he had hoped for, what he'd wanted. "Yes. Thank you."

He'll explain everything to Robbie in a moment. He really will. He just needs a few moments of being held first.

***

Robbie is relieved that James has come to him to talk about this.

He's known, of course, that something has been bothering James. But you can't ask James what's wrong, because he'll always say nothing's wrong and close off completely from you. So Robbie has been biding his time patiently, waiting for James to realise he can talk about what he's feeling if he wants to…and yes, maybe Robbie has been a bit more free with his affectionate touches than usual. But it's the only way he can think of providing reassurance that doesn't involve some sort of acknowledgment that something is wrong.

And now, thankfully, James has come to talk to Robbie of his own accord.

Robbie's heart aches as James slowly, agonisingly, explains what about the case is troubling to him…what resonance it has in his own life. Though Robbie isn't going to say this, because there's no point in making comparisons, he understands when a case hits too close to home. Any case involving kids when his kids were young and living at home used to keep him awake nights. It's always, always worse when you think, "That could be my family" or "That could be me." Or "That was me."

Finally, when James has told his story, he hides his face against Robbie's neck and whispers, "I just want it to go away."

"I know, love," Robbie whispers, hugging James tight and kissing his cheek. He doesn't ask if James might like to give the case to someone else, because James is always so bloody determined to solve cases, even when he's so entangled in them that there's no way out.

James will solve the case. And Robbie will be here to take care of him.

***

James wakes with Robbie's arms around him and Robbie's cheek pressed against his back. He forgot to close his curtains last night, and can see the pink-streaked clouds of sunrise through the window.

Robbie presses a kiss to the back of James's shoulder. "Lovely, isn't it?"

James nods, covering Robbie's arms with his own. "I'm glad you're awake. So we could both see it."

He can hear the smile in Robbie's voice. "So am I."

James smiles too. "Just think. There's never been another sunrise like this and there'll never be one again. This moment will be unique in all our lives."

Robbie's quiet for a while. "Sometimes I love the way you see things."

James rolls over to face Robbie. "Sometimes I love you."

Robbie feigns indignance. "Only sometimes?"

James smiles and shakes his head. "No. Not only sometimes." He kisses Robbie gently.

Just this moment, unique in all the world, for the two of them.

***

When Robbie opens the door, James is standing outside.

"I don't know how to apologise," James says softly, eyes downcast. "The penitent in me wants to kneel, but I thought you might think that was a joke, and it isn't. Not to me. I'm truly sorry, Robbie, and I understand if you don't forgive me."

Robbie frowns at him. "Sorry, what? You understand if I don't forgive you?"

James bites his lower lip. "There's no excuse."

Robbie shakes his head. "James, people in relationships argue sometimes. It's not unusual."

James fidgets. "But I hurt you."

"And I hurt you," Robbie says. "And I'm sorry I hurt you, and I'm sure you're sorry too."

James bows his head. "I am."

"Well, then. Come in and we'll make it up to each other."

James looks at Robbie, startled. "It can't be that easy."

"Why not?" Robbie asks. He loves James dearly, but sometimes the lad makes things endlessly complicated when they don't need to be.

"I…just…" James shakes his head. "It's never been that easy."

"So, first time for everything," Robbie says.

That makes James smile, and he hesitantly steps inside.

Robbie knows he will have to take the lead, and he slides his arms around James. James shudders and then seems to melt against Robbie.

"I thought you wouldn't want to do this any more," James whispers.

"Half the fun of arguing is making up after," Robbie says. "Haven't you heard the pop songs?"

"Think I must've missed those," James says.

"Well," Robbie says, "there's only one thing for it."

James lifts his eyes and gives Robbie a hopeful but worried look. "What's that?"

"Kiss it better," Robbie says, leaning in for a kiss.

He knows things will be all right between them when James meets him halfway without hesitation.

***

When they make it to the bedroom, Robbie lowers himself to his knees in front of James.

James instinctively takes a step back, startled. "Robbie? What are you doing?"

Robbie's face flushes. "I…I thought I'd…" He makes a meaningless gesture with his hand.

But James knows what he means. "You don't have to. You know that."

Robbie reaches out and rests his hand on James's hip. "I want to do something for you. Words aren't exactly…I never know what to say. But I can do things to apologise."

James shakes his head. "I don't want our intimacy to be penance. I want it to happen because we both want it, not because you feel like you owe me something."

"I do owe you," Robbie says quietly. 

James lowers himself to his knees, touching Robbie's cheek gently. "Why?"

Robbie stares at the floor. "After…after the case with Zoe…I told myself, I promised myself I would never lose my temper with you again. I broke that promise."

James frowns. "But that's not realistic, Robbie, to promise…"

"It doesn't matter," Robbie interrupts. "I keep my promises. Especially to you. And I didn't keep this one."

Sometimes, in the past, James has thought of Robbie as whole where he is broken, but gradually, he's coming to see that isn't accurate. Everyone is broken somewhere. Robbie is just broken in different ways than James, that's all.

"I'm not angry with you," James says quietly.

"I'm angry with meself," Robbie says, but his words are more of a sigh than an accusation.

James leans in and kisses Robbie. "You want to do something for me anyway, don't you? Even though you don't have to?"

"I need to do something," Robbie says, very quietly.

James nods. "You could let me see you."

Robbie frowns at him. "You can see me now."

"Without your clothes on," James says.

Robbie's breath catches. "You don't really want to…"

"I do," James says, "or I wouldn't have asked." He rests his forehead against Robbie's. "And maybe, if you're not too uncomfortable, I could touch you?"

"Well," Robbie says, "that'd be no hardship for me, would it?"

James smiles. "That's the idea."

***

Something happens when Robbie hasn't got any clothes on. His defences all seem to disappear. It isn't just that he feels vulnerable, although he does, but somehow he is more vulnerable, more open. Robbie knows it about himself, though he doesn't know why it happens. He doesn't think James knows…or rather, James hasn't known to this point, though it should become fairly obvious now.

James does touch Robbie, and even that touch seems heightened; Robbie shivers and sighs and breaks out in gooseflesh at the sensations James's touch evokes in him. James is gentle with him. Robbie is grateful (though James has never been anything else).

When James is finished, he removes his shirt and wraps Robbie in it, a gesture Robbie finds unspeakably tender and thoughtful. Then James gathers Robbie close to share his body heat.

"I need you, James," Robbie whispers.

James kisses his cheek. "I need you too."

"No. I mean…" Robbie holds James a little more tightly. "I mean I wouldn't know what to do if you weren't here."

"Oh, Robbie." James gathers Robbie close as he can, his embrace warm and reassuring. "I can't leave you for someone else yet. We haven't finished the garden."

Robbie laughs softly; that joke wouldn't work with everyone, but James knows by now what makes Robbie smile. "Then we'll never finish it, so you'll have to stay."

James's cheek presses against Robbie's. "I didn't know you worried about that."

Robbie closes his eyes and inhales the scent of James's aftershave. It's the details that ground him and stop him worrying--the gentle pressure of James's hands on his back, the scents of James's aftershave and shampoo, the scratch of their stubbly cheeks against each other.

James's voice is soft now, and earnest. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I love you."

Robbie snuggles closer and lets himself believe it. "I love you too."

***

They are planting a bed of impatiens when James says, "Gardening was the one chore I used to like on the estate."

He purposely avoids looking at Robbie after he says that, because he can feel Robbie's interest, can feel Robbie's gaze and focus narrowing to exclude everything but him. It's James's own fault, really; he has steadfastly avoided talking about his past, even with Robbie, so any mention of any anything is a rather seismic event.

"Oh?" Robbie says, trying to sound nonchalant. 

James is sure that Robbie thinks if he asks any specific questions, if he digs into James's past, James will close off and stop talking. James certainly would have before they began this relationship. Now, he's not sure what he would do. He might answer the questions now. He might tell the truth. Not that Robbie would have any way of knowing this, as James hasn't told him.

James nods. "Crevecoeur was designed to dazzle. Part of that was the gardens. My father left some of the work to me, and when I was old enough, I began doing research about different types of flowers and plants and weeds. Just enough to know what belonged, what was meant to grow, and what wasn't. I planted…I don't know how many beds of flowers. And then it was my job to keep them weeded and tended to."

"Thought you said you were twelve when you left home to go to school," Robbie says.

James wouldn't call Crevecoeur home. In some ways, it never was. "I was."

"You had a job tending to the gardens when you were a child?"

James shrugs. "Being a child didn't exempt you from work." He snorted with wry laughter. "Some days, when I'd done less work than I knew my father had expected, I used to bury my hands in the dirt and leave them there a few minutes so I'd look as though I'd been working in the gardens. My father never caught on."

Robbie smiles. "Clever even then."

James bites back the retort that cleverness never did him much good at Crevecoeur. It did get him out of there, though, which was no small feat.

Robbie kisses his cheek. "Well, you don't have to tend this garden unless you want to. And I'll help you."

James smiles. "Thank you."

If James had known how easy Robbie could make it to talk about things, he would've started long before now.

***

James is trying to look blase, but this is the thirteenth time he's straightened his tie. Robbie is counting.

"You'll be fine," Robbie says, giving James's hand a squeeze and cheek a kiss.

"What if I'm not?" James says, agitated. "What if I do the wrong thing? Say the wrong thing? What if I drop the baby on her head?"

"No one is going to let you drop the baby on her head, James," Robbie says. "Just stay calm and don't panic."

"That's easy for you to say. It's your family," James says ruefully. "I just want them to like me."

"They will," Robbie says, tugging James closer and into a hug.

James accepts the hug with visible gratitude. "But how do you know?"

"They'll love you because I love you," Robbie says. "That's what family means."

James mutters something that sounds like, "Not my family," under his breath.

Robbie cups James's cheek in his free hand. "We don't have to go at all if you're not ready. I don't mind. We'll just make our excuses and stay home."

James shakes his head. "I don't want to keep you from seeing your children and grandchildren." He takes a deep breath. "I'm ready now."

"You're so brave," Robbie says warmly. "I love that about you."

"Trust me, it's all a cunning disguise for my terror," James quips. He squeezes Robbie's hand. "Let's go meet your family."

Robbie doesn't have James's doubts. His kids and grandkids will all love James; he knows it.

***

Somehow, in spite of his repeated attempts to avoid such a circumstance, James has been left holding the baby. Lyn tells him how to hold the little one--Mairead is her name--and then vanishes, leaving James standing there with a baby in his arms.

James immediately finds a chair. He's not going to walk through the house merrily bouncing Mairead, particularly as that will not help his fear of dropping her in the slightest. He holds her carefully as he sits, hoping someone will relieve him of his babysitting duties soon.

But they don't, and it's not very interesting to just stare at Mairead. So James finds himself searching for something to do. He could talk to her, of course, but he wouldn't know what to say. So he searches for something to sing, to soothe her and keep her from crying, and inexplicably, he fastens on the chorus of "White Wine in the Sun" by Tim Minchin, moving from the chorus into the verse addressed to the baby girl (the only verse he can remember right now). 

It's an emotional song, especially this bit, the only bit James can remember, and he chokes up when he gets to "These are the people who'll make you feel safe in this world/my sweet blue-eyed girl" and has to stop singing altogether. Because he never understood this bit of this song before, not in this way. This is the kind of family and the kind of family gathering he can believe this of. 

"That's nice, James." It's Lyn, standing in the doorway.

James gives her a rather moist-eyed smile. "I just thought…" He shrugs.

Lyn smiles. "Do you want me to take her?"

James nods. "Yes. Please. I've run out of song."

Lyn takes her baby daughter into her arms. "Thank you for looking after her."

"She was no trouble," James says quietly.

It's overwhelming. Family. Children. Babies. James isn't sure Robbie would understand that, but when James returns to Robbie's side and needs to hold onto him for the next hour or two, Robbie accepts it without question.

These are the people who'll make you feel safe in this world.

***

James is generally a light sleeper. Robbie has learnt this from experience; usually, in the night, if he as much as stirs or gets up to go to the lavatory, James wakes up instantly. After the first few times, James stopped asking if Robbie was all right, and he pretends that he goes back to sleep, but Robbie knows James wakes up every time Robbie gets up in the night.

But not here. For some reason, nestled in each other's arms at Lyn's house, James is sleeping as soundly as Robbie has ever seen him sleep. Robbie gets up to use the lavatory, and when he comes back, James is still fast asleep, arms extended. Robbie crawls back into James's embrace, snuggling close against him, and all James does is sigh softly in his sleep and shift position a bit.

Something happened today. Robbie doesn't know what it is, but something has allowed James to drop some of his defences and relax in this place. Maybe it's because it feels so much like a home, or maybe it's because Lyn and Tim treat James as they would treat any other member of the family. Whatever it is, there's no denying that James was relaxed tonight at dinner, and that he fell asleep quickly and has slept soundly so far.

Robbie has never been a guest in his daughter's house with a significant other before. He thought it might be strange before he came, but it doesn't. It feels natural. It feels right.

Robbie doesn't think he's going to have any problems sleeping tonight either. He knows he belongs here, just as James does, and that he belongs at James's side.

Mm. That is a relaxing thought, Robbie thinks as he too slides into sleep.

***

James wakes from a dream of exams, his top half sprawled across Robbie, and his first thought is that the sun is coming in from the wrong side of the room. His second thought is that they are in his university flat.

"I don't want to go to lecture, Robbie," he mumbles softly, nuzzling Robbie's chest with his cheek.

Robbie chuckles gently, and James, eyes still closed, feels Robbie's hand running through his hair. "You don't have to, love. Promise."

James opens his eyes and blinks, slowly reorienting to what's actually happening. They're in Robbie's daughter's house. Right. "Sorry. I was, erm, dreaming about university."

"Don't be sorry. I love that you brought me to university with you," Robbie says warmly, ruffling James's hair.

James smiles. "I would've liked having you with me at university. You would've kept me from being in my head too much."

"Distracted you from your studies, more like," Robbie says. "But I wouldn't turn down the chance to be with you anywhere."

James changed position so that he was lying on his side facing Robbie, who also moved to lie on his side. "Do you know, this is the first time in years that I've had a dream I remembered?"

"I don't mind staying on so you can get a good night's sleep," Robbie says, hand moving up and down James's arm, "but it's a bit of a commute, Manchester to Oxford."

James laughs, then sobers. "I want to thank you for bringing me here. It's been lovely so far."

"Thank you for coming," Robbie whispers. "It's been good for me too, having you with me."

James kisses Robbie. "Do you think we can steal a few more minutes here before we get up?"

Robbie smiles. "I'm counting on it."

***

James had thought that visiting Robbie's family would be awkward and uncomfortable, but it seems that the reverse has been true. Visiting Robbie's family has made something click into place inside him. He feels as though he has found a place for himself for the first time in his life. He isn't hiding when he's there; he's as open as he's ever been, and he notices the difference in himself just as surely as he is certain Robbie does.

But now they're going home, and James is terrified that he will close up again the moment he's in familiar surroundings.

He tries not to seem anxious, but Robbie is too good at gauging James's moods not to notice. So James simply keeps hold of Robbie's hand at every available opportunity.

When they are finally inside their flat in Oxford, and James is still clinging to Robbie's hand, Robbie says sensibly, "Now will you tell me what's wrong?"

"I don't want to be who I was when we left here," James says.

Robbie nods. "I know things changed while we were away."

"They did," James says, his grip on Robbie's hand tightening. "I felt…protected."

Robbie's expression softens. "That's why you could sleep."

James's face grows hot. "You noticed that?"

Robbie raises his eyebrows. "James. We've shared a bed every night for a year. Of course I noticed."

James steps closer to Robbie, touching his cheek gently. "I want to keep that feeling. I want to feel that way in our home just as I do in your daughter's."

"Can I help?" Robbie asks.

James can't help smiling. "You always help."

As he leans in for a kiss, James thinks that maybe, just maybe, he'll be sleeping soundly tonight.

***

Some nights, they chat as they fall asleep. Sometimes the conversation makes sense and sometimes it doesn't; Robbie remembers a night that they were both on the edge of sleep and drowsy James had insisted on sharing everything he knew about giraffes. The next morning, James had no memory of his giraffe lecture; Robbie wondered if James hadn't been suppressing the memories because he was embarrassed, but he knew people did stranger things in their sleep than talk about giraffes.

Tonight, they rehashed their visit with Lyn, Tim, Jack, and Mairead until both of them were too drowsy to carry on a conversation any more. They then fell asleep curled against each other, which is Robbie's favourite sleep position these days.

It's the middle of the night when Robbie is awakened by James's arms pulling him closer.

"All right, love?" Robbie asks softly, but James doesn't seem to hear him. He must be doing this in his sleep. Apparently the lad doesn't do things by halves; either he wakes at the slightest sound or he sleeps so deeply the trumpets of Jericho couldn't wake him. (James would like that reference to the trumpets of Jericho. Robbie will have to remember to tell him about it.)

"Promise me, Robbie," James mumbles, in sleep-slurred tones.

Well, it's only fair. Robbie snores when he's asleep. It seems oddly fitting that James should talk in his sleep. Sort of makes it seem as though they're made for each other.

"Robbie, promise," James says, his voice sounding oddly fragile.

Robbie kisses James's cheek sleepily, stretching against him. "I promise, pet."

James sighs and lapses into some sort of dream gibberish. "She said…not the Byron poems…hidden behind the door…" And then he falls silent again.

Robbie wonders if James solves mysteries in his sleep, but as he did before, he loves that James keeps him close even in his dreams.

Robbie would make James the promises he made Val, if he knew James wanted them.

***

"What did you want me to promise you, pet?"

They've been watching telly to now, and James is confused by Robbie's sudden question. "Sorry?"

"The other night, you were dreaming of something, I think, and you insisted that I promise you something," Robbie says. "What did you want me to promise? Can you remember?"

"Erm…" It's always difficult for James to remember his dreams a long period after the fact. What could he have been dreaming about that would have required a promise from Robbie?

"It's all right if you don't know," Robbie says, almost too quickly. "I was just curious, that's all. You mentioned something about Byron poems…?"

Oh! James does remember that one after all. "Someone had stolen a volume of Byron poems. You were going to America to find them."

"To America?" Robbie sounds as though that doesn't follow at all. Which it doesn't, to be fair.

James gives Robbie a wry look. "It was a dream, Robbie. They don't have to be logical."

"And the promise?"

"Before you left, I made you promise you would send for me once you got there," James says.

"Oh, well, I'd never do that."

James nearly hurts himself, he turns his head so quickly. "You wouldn't?"

Robbie shakes his head. "I'd never leave for anywhere without you. Not now."

James shouldn't be relieved, necessarily, but he is. "I'm glad."

Robbie's hand finds James's. "I can promise you at least that much."

***

They are out to dinner, and their server is flirting with James.

At first, the server--Paul by name--simply gives James flirtatious glances. James has never responded to those sorts of overtures, so he doesn't react any differently to Paul than he does to anyone. But Paul doesn't give up. He begins slipping in little comments and hints that indicate he would like James's phone number, or that he'd like to spend a romantic evening with James.

James is politely unenthusiastic, and Robbie knows that's probably the best response, even as he's doing everything he can not to show how mortified he is by someone trying to steal his boyfriend out from under his nose. It's embarrassing and irritating, and Robbie never wants to come back to this restaurant again. He'd thought it would be something special, and the food is supposed to be excellent, but he barely notices the taste of anything he eats because of everything else that's going on.

The worst of it is that Paul is handsome and young and probably clever…everything James is and everything Robbie knows he isn't. Even Robbie has to admit that, objectively speaking, Paul is a much better match for James than Robbie is. And that's before Paul makes a joke about James dining out with his dad.

Robbie pays for dinner, and of course, Paul is the one to take care of it at the register. Robbie tries to hold his tongue, but he finds it physically impossible to do so any longer.

"We're dating, you know," Robbie says.

"Are you?" Paul looks surprised, and gives Robbie a once-over. Robbie feels naked beneath the glance, and he doesn't like it. Then Paul shrugs.

"Lucky he didn't meet me first," Paul says.

Robbie pays without another word. He wants to go home.

***

Robbie is uncharacteristically silent as they start home. James slips his hand into Robbie's, sure this has something to do with the…let's say overattentive…server at the restaurant. James hates being on the receiving end of that sort of attention in public anyway, but when he's out with Robbie as a couple, it makes it ten times worse. James waits until they're inside the flat to say anything.

"I should've been more blunt about us," James says quietly. "I'm sorry."

When Robbie finally speaks, he sounds tired. "Sometimes I forget what we look like."

James frowns. "What do you mean?"

Robbie gives James a sad smile. "Most of the time, I don't feel any different from you. But then…" He shakes his head. "He thought I was your dad."

"Who cares what he thinks?" James says loyally, reaching for Robbie. 

But Robbie pulls away. "I wish I could be all the things you deserve."

James opens his mouth to protest and finds himself snapping, "Stop that this minute!"

Robbie looks at James, startled and slightly agog.

James takes a step toward Robbie and rests a hand on his shoulder. "The server was rude. Yes. But nothing he said or did changes anything between us. Do you understand that? I won't have you thinking I want someone as obnoxious of that regardless of his age or appearance or shoe size or anything else."

Robbie almost smiles. "Shoe size?"

"I needed three things to make a list," James says with a grin. He squeezes Robbie's shoulder. "I don't know what I deserve. But I know what I want, and that's you. And I won't let anyone else make you believe anything different."

This time, Robbie does give James a wobbly smile, and he moves his hand to cover James's as it rests on his shoulder. "He said he was sorry he hadn't met you before me."

"I wouldn't date someone like him if I'd met him when I was six," James retorts.

Robbie's smile widens just a bit. "I should have known better than to let him get to me. I'm sorry."

James hugs Robbie tightly. "Don't be sorry. If this happens again, come to me first. I'll tell you how I feel about you with very little prompting."

Robbie laughs and hides his face against James's shoulder, hugging him in return. "I love you."

James kisses Robbie. "I love you too. And don't you dare think otherwise."

***

"I have a question for you," Robbie says as they're watching telly one night, trying to sound offhand.

"Hm?" James asks, focussed on the documentary they're watching about ducks.

Robbie slides his hand into James's, tickling his palm slightly to get his attention. "How do you feel about being married?"

James gives Robbie a quizzical look. "I don't know. I'm not married."

"Would you like to be?" Robbie blurts out before he can think better of it.

James's expression goes from quizzical to shocked, which probably doesn't bode well for Robbie's chances. "You're proposing?"

"Only if you're going to say yes," Robbie says, feeling ridiculously timid.

James slowly moves his hands, which seem to be shaking, so that they are cupping Robbie's face delicately. He then leans in for a tender kiss.

"I'm counting that as a yes," Robbie pants when they finally break apart.

"Thank you," James whispers. "I thought it didn't matter, but it does."

Robbie doesn't follow. "What does?"

"Being married," James says. "I…I never thought I would be. Married. And I find I want to be."

"Well, don't let me stop you," Robbie says.

James laughs, kissing him again, more playfully this time. "How will it be?"

"However we want," Robbie says softly.

***

In the end, it is just the two of them in a registry office. Robbie wears the blue shirt James picked out for him so long ago, and James wears the pink shirt that is Robbie's favourite. They exchange plain gold bands--silver tarnishes, Robbie says, and James has no desire to end up polishing his wedding ring at regular intervals.

When they leave the registry office and James is holding Robbie's hand, he can feel Robbie's wedding bands, both together. He thinks of Val, and hopes silently that she doesn't mind him marrying her husband too much. Even if she did mind, he's not sure he would change anything he's done, because he loves Robbie so dearly that the thought of being without him is untenable.

They drive to the seaside to find a place to eat afterward, because James says he wants to feel the sea breeze in his hair. Robbie is so happy that James thinks he would agree to almost anything, but James only wants to ask for things that both of them will want.

They find a fish and chip shop with outdoor seating that has an ocean view. James has never felt so utterly fizzy and lighthearted before, and is half tempted, in his more cynical moments, to think that he's got some sort of ailment causing it. He closes his eyes and feels the sun on the face and the breeze in his hair, and Robbie's presence next to him is like a miracle.

James is a husband now. James has a husband now. And he can't stop looking at the wedding band on his own hand and confirming that it's really there, that it isn't just a dream or a wish or an idle fancy.

They find a B&B in the same seaside town and check in, and it is almost an echo of their trip to America, which seems a lifetime ago. James feels oddly shy, as though they haven't been sharing a bed all this time…haven't been sharing a life all this time.

But that night, as they are nestled close together and the only light in their room is from the stars and the moon, James knows Robbie is the only choice he could have made.

They have both found their home.


End file.
